Hush
by FloodFeSTeR
Summary: Vini is a tired lawyer, Bruce Wayne's sometimes lover...and now? The Joker's latest obsession...his newest toy, he says. And she can't find it in her to protest. (Basically a prequel to Her, can be read seperately)
1. Chapter 1

_**Things may or may not get a little mixed and faded in this fic. There are triggers in later chapters, so you have been warned. Its a three way relationship for the moment, but decisions will be made so there's that.**_

_**I hope you all enjoy!**_

* * *

She laughs, a truly sugar-sweet laugh, and skips down the dank alleyway.

Bare feet sift through vile, sun warmed, puddles of garbage and oil. But she doesn't care, why would she? She was beyond those basic creature comforts - the ones that included cleanliness and nice smells. Had been for some time now - away from pretty things, pretty possessions.

She twirls a submachine gun in her right hand.

She really should have dressed for the occasion - or better yet, she should have come naked. How funny it would have been to have seen his and that saggy hookers face when she - self proclaimed _murder goddess_, self proclaimed _Morrigan_ \- approached them from the dark, naked as the day she were born, wielding a gun a little bigger than half of her tiny frame.

"It would have been delicious," she purred, pointing her gun down and firing.

The man - what was his name again? Jeremy? Jerry? Wait! It was Richie, the governors nephew - had been trying to drag himself away, sleek suit dragging through the putrid trash he was akin to - _oh_, and don't forget the blood from the hooker, who lie quivering near him; a deep, angry slice gracing her throat from ear to ear. He sobbed, begged for his life, offered payment, _riches_ \- but she didn't care. With a heavy belch from her gun, his head snapped like a rubber band, falling forward, body still.

"_Te he he_," she giggled, walking just a few steps past his dead body before turning. She cocked a hip, grinning the whole time, arms drenched in sticky blood up to her elbows. "I'm doooone," she sang the last word, voice pitching oddly monotone for a moment.

His gloves smacked loudly as he clapped, slinging himself around lazily before stopping behind her. She giggled and swayed back into him as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders, resting his head against her right shoulder. She let the gun dangle from her fingertips as they surveyed her work - her first _solo performance_ \- and he planted a wide, sloppy, kiss against her cheek. It left a streak of red and a wet mark.

"You. are. _perfect_."


	2. Chapter 2

She saw him at a party.

Harvey's fundraiser, Bruce was flirting with her over the punch bowl. She was worried about her dress - it was thin, black satin with sequins and a feathered skirt that only came to mid-thigh - and he insisted she looked great. Her heels clicked as she shifted her weight, smiling that goofy smile at her long-time crush. He was holding her hand and smiling at her, she had his attention.

It was only logical she got a little lost in the fact that _she _had the attention of Bruce Wayne. He was smiling and laughing, hadn't left her side all night and she was eating it up with a spoon. He was trying to talk her out of the city for awhile, come away with him on vacation - face it, every day was a vacation to someone with so much damn money, so little responsibilities he couldn't hire someone else to handle.

Then something in his coat pocket buzzed and he fished it out; A small black rectangle that lit with a swipe of his thumb. His expression darkened and before she could say anything, he was gone.

"Well boo," she muttered, plucking up a glass of champagne. "Now...who to -"

The room had gone silent.

She looked around, fingernails tapping against the thin glass. There weren't even whispers in the crowd of people, just stunned stares at something she was too short to see.

""We made it!"

The crowd of people parted as a shotgun blast muffled through the room, one woman managing to trip over the long train of her cocktail dress. No one screamed, no one scattered like roaches. They all seemed _stunned_. Vanessa was none of the above. She was a rising lawyer, she couldn't afford to have falty nerves.

"Good evening, ladies and gentle-man!"

Three men in horror-film worthy clown masks darted forward, waving around shotguns, keeping everyone back; Vanessa hung onto the glass-tower-table behind her, champagne glass still in hand.

A man sauntered forward, crude purple coat dusty with faint dark smudges around the hem. He had a strange limp and hunched shoulders, green hair slicked back from a painted face. He waved the shotgun in his hand around for a moment, eyes darting around the room. They were ringed in black face paint, making the color of them stand out in an unnerving way. Vanessa felt a stirring in her belly and placed a hand over it.

"We are tonight_sss_," he snatched up a shrimp sampler, practically sucking it off the toothpick. "Entertainment," he tossed the stick to the side and paused in the middle of the room. "I only have one question: _where. is. Harvey. Dint?_"

He paused, waiting for an answer. No one spoke, no one moved. He seemed to roll his eyes and walked back, wagging his shotgun in the faces of several guests, who treated the weapon as more of a pest than a loaded gun. He snatched up a woman's - Hillary? Eh, that could wait for later - and sent champagne flying over the floor, swallowing the last sip. He briefly locked eyes with Vanessa as he set the glass down, flashing gangly yellow teeth at her; she swallowed and took a long sip of her drink as he sauntered past her; she needed more.

"You know where Harvey is," he smacked a brunette with the back of his hand. "Don' know where he is?"

Vanessa jumped, Rachel coming up behind her. Vanessa felt her heart flutter. "Rach - where's Bruce?"

"I don't know -"

The Joker roughly took a hold of a balding mans face, shaking his head a little. "Know where Harvey is? I really need to talk to him bout something," when the man didn't answer, he took a hold of the top of his head and forcibly made him shake his head. "_Nooo_."

She couldn't help it. A giggle bubbled up from between her teeth and Vanessa slapped her hand over her mouth. All eyes rolled to her, the Joker's twisted grin becoming the center of her universe for the moment. She gulped, mentally berating herself for the giggle she had let loose. Was it the champagne? Either way, he swaggered towards her, obviously amused.

"Hello beautiful," he pushed back his hair, towering over her. "And you _are_ beautiful..."

Rachel squeezed her hand but Vanessa didn't move. Really, she couldn't, but she also kind of didn't want to. Her fathers voice echoed in the back of her head, saying something had to be wrong with her; maybe he was right, maybe there really _were _some screws loose in there.

His eyes popped and she now noticed the blade in his hand. "Oh," he popped. "You look nervous! Is it the scars...wanna know how I got em," when she hesitated, he roughly took a hold of her face, blade dangerously close to her left eye. "Sooo, I had a wife - beautiful. _Like you_. Who says...I worry too much, tells me I need to _smile_ more. Who gambles and gets in deep with the sharks..." jesus, his cologne. . .his breath. Its all just _too much_. "One day, they carve up her face, and we have no money for surgeries - she can't take it."

She's hyperventilating. Is she on fire? No - its him. He's hot. _Really hot_. Temperature wise, she's not talking about his physique - though, going by height and the firmness of his chest pressed against hers, she's sure he's delicious underneath those clothes.

Wait. . ._what_?

A gasp comes from her lips as he's torn away from her. He's on the floor and Rachel is pulling her back, saying _something_. The whole room is a flurry of movement - Batman (Bruce, she knows) is fighting, people are scattering, a gun clatters in front of her. Before she can react, the gun is snatched away and at her temple. She tenses in _his_ arms, Bruce's pinpoint eyes glaring behind the mask. His fists are clenching at his sides, sending the mild squeak of leather into the air but he doesn't move.

"Ah ah ah ah," Joker cackles, backing towards the elevator, his men following. "Don't worry," he grins against the shell of her ear, finding glee where the Batman hesitates, anger making him shake. "She's in good hands."

He lets her go when the elevator door shuts but she doesn't leap away from him. She stays where she is, the men oggling her. They catch the Joker glaring at them and then quickly look away. He has to appreciate the dress she's in, the way she smells - _like candy_.

But there is no time for reveling - the doors open and he grabs her arm, dragging her along with the gun in her back. She shivers when the cold night air hits her, shakes even more when he lets her go. He saunters in front of her, adjusts his coat and stuffs the gun in the back of his pants.

"Well I had a wonderful time darling," he winks. "Be seein ya."

He cackles and hops in the back of the van his men pile into, peeling away from the curb while she knows she's already smitten.

Vanessa rubs her arms slightly and hurry's back into the lobby of the building, not surprised to see Rachel standing there, looking relieved to see Vanessa hadn't been abducted - or possibly that she was just _alive_.

"He didn't hurt you, did he," Rachel runs her hands along Vanessa's, up and down her arms.

"No. . ." Vanessa shook her head. "He didn't hurt me. . ."


	3. Chapter 3

She sees him again a week later.

She's headed home, walking out her anger at losing her newest case. She could have sworn she covered all her bases, everyone's asses, but _no_ she forgot to check for the next state over, to see if he had any felony charges over there; a rookie mistake, Jesus she _wasn't_ a rookie. She should have seen the fucking felony-assault and attempted rape of a minor. No way was her client getting out now and everybody was questioning her abilities -

She needed to stop right there, it would do no good to get angry about something that was already over. She would just have to roll this around with Harvey, see what he thought. But she felt embarrassed even thinking about talking to him about something like this, something she should know. She had mentored under him for the past year, she wondered if he would call her stupid. Or flip that two-sided coin of his. How no one had noticed the uncanny -

Someone was touching her ass.

"Hey motherfu -"

When she turned, all she got was a face-full of yellow teeth and paint-stained eye sockets. The dark color had stained the bright eyes and made them appear out of darkness. It was terrifying, but not as terrifying as the way his hand was kneaded her ass through her pleated skirt. He was grinning and she was scared stiff; how did no one notice this? His lips brushed across the lobe of her right ear, sucking on the diamond stud piercing the skin.

"Naughty girl," he snickered. "No undies? This is quite. . ._convenient_."

"Pleas -"

"No stutter," he pouted, saliva making his lips shine. "I'm offended," when she floundered, he showed his teeth again. "_Now_, what you're going to do is hold my hand and we're going to that apartment building you're so fond of a block away. Don't make a scene, I know you're a talented actress."

She nodded slowly as his glove creaked in her hand, her eyes darting over the different coat he was wearing. She noticed his clothes most of all - and not because his signature suit was just so fucking ugly. What she noticed about his clothes was that they were always so big, covering his frame. She wondered if he did that because of his body or if there was another reason behind the cover-up. She didn't want to find out.

As they wound up the staircase leading to the fourth floor, Vini felt her pulse beginning to speed up. He was still there but he had let go of her hand and had it secured around her waist, a knife pressing against the tender skin of her hip. He whistled while she fumbled with the keys, not even looking to make sure the coast was clear; no one was watching. His confidence was astounding, almost had her impressed where she knew she shouldn't be because he was bat shit _insane_. He finally did a quick sweep before thrusting her into the apartment, kicking the door shut as he approached her. She had dropped her briefcase and was now staring in horror as he began to shrug off his coat; the glint of metal in the lining of the coat told her he did wear big clothes for a reason, and not to hide himself from the world.

She took off like a bullet.

To the left, towards her bedroom. She skid against the smooth hardwood and fumbled from her knees, making a bee-line for the nightstand to the right of her bed. But his legs were longer and he was surprisingly fast. His hands came down like a vise around his hips and he flipped her, practically rolling her off to the other side of the bed. She bounced, a horrified look on her face, and he pounced, grinning as he pressed her into the feather-bed.

He suppressed her scream with his hand, producing his favored blade. "Sh-sh-sh, noooow," he licked his lips, running the tip of the switchblade down the side of her face; her eyes were wide while she watched, cried when it split skin. "We don' wanna-_uh_. . .get your neighbor involved. Mrs. Feltnish? Now. . .wouldn't that be a _tragedy_."

She tensed. He had been here before? He knew the tenants, he even knew which way to turn her when they were on the staircase. She should have noticed that, thought about it, been more cautious on her way home after the blatant display of interest from Bruce's party. What was _with _her lately? She was slipping up in court, in the office, around Bruce and Rachel - all because of the Joker

He grinned at her compliancy and pulled his hand and the blade away, eyes roaming down her sweaty neck. "There we go," he purred. "Now, here's what we're gonna do. . .you're gonna be a good girl - like you _want_ to be, hmm? So close and touchy at the fundraiser. . .didn't even protest when I drug ya outside. . ."

_Oh God, oh God_. . .

"What do you want," her voice was meek and disgusted her because Vanessa was _not _one of those women.

He grinned, eyes sparking in a wild fever. He ran his right hand down her side, digging under her blouse, popping a button or two on the way. She quivered as he ran his tongue up her cheek, his groan mirroring hers as he gently ran his fingertips over her breast cup. He purred in her ear, grinding himself against her crooked knee; she felt her cheeks heat in embarrassment. When he hitched and situated a knee between her own thighs, her breath hitched and she resisted the urge to buck up against him.

"Why, my dear," he opened his eyes, cupped her jaw firmly in his hand. "I want _you_."

* * *

She was placid the next day, waiting in his elevator. She kept her clutch in front of her, shiny dress shimmering in the warm lighting. When the elevator dinged and the doors slid open, she smiled, heels clicking as she walked through the penthouse.

She could smell his cologne, the lavender candles he knew she liked. As she entered the main room, overlooking the flickering lights of Gotham, she paused and smiled at the small dinner table in the center of the room. Alfred gave her a smile and a nod as he prepared their plates, leaving as she slowly strut towards _him_. He was facing the city, hands clasped behind his back. He didn't even jump when she pressed herself against him. She ran her right hand up his chest and he clasped a hand over it as she rested it against the pulse of his heart. She nestled her chin in the slope of his shoulder, smiling at their reflection; he gave her that small, crooked smile that appeared as more of a smirk.

"Hi there," she muttered, voice slightly husky.

"Hi," he chuckled.

They ate dinner like a routine, laughed at each others bad jokes. As she sipped at her wine, she could see him smiling at her so tenderly her heart began to break. Guilt was pounding away at her - _ok_, maybe _pounding_ wasn't such a good word to use. It only made her cheeks heat even more. It was always like this though, the tenderness between the two of them. She became his lover three years ago, she was there when no one else was. She insisted to be there when she knew he needed companionship, that turned into a long affair of fucking and dinner, art shows, fundraisers and other extravagant things. He even offered her a place at his side, but never proposed. No, Bruce Wayne did not propose, but what he offered was just as good. She would never want; she would never crave anything ever again.

"Dinner really was delicious Bruce," she murmurs as his lips hungrily attack hers.

"You're delicious," he hums against the side of her throat, working the zipper down her back as he backs her towards the bed.

She wants to say no tonight, wants to come clean but her tummy is warm and full around him. She can't stop touching him, can't say no to the man she was pretty sure she was in love with.

Her thoughts flit from want to how soft the bed sheets are against her back. He's tugging down her dress and kissing her neck and she loves the way the windows darken, how it just seems to be them inside a black room. She gives out an airy laugh that trails off into a warm moan and she runs her hands down his back, trying to gather all of him up in her arms. She closes her eyes, lets him move against her, bringing back familiar feelings.

But, for her, there is no spark.

And when she opens her eyes, she sees the scars marring his square face. She sees his greasy green hair and his sweaty, scarred chest. She sees the paint on his hands and gasps, covering it quickly as Bruce gives her a worried glance; had he hurt her? She smiles and pulls his lips against her, wanting to cry, but out of guilt this time.

Because she doesn't see - want - him above her, she wants _him_.

She wants the Joker.

And it gives her. . .an incredible high.

* * *

"You okay, Vini?"

Vanesaa blinks a few times, looking over at Rachel where she is organizing papers, giving her a worried glance. Vini hesitates and then shrugs, looking back down to the documents brought in a half hour ago; another felony assault, battery. . .

"Guess it's just been. . ." She pauses, trying to pick through the pornographic scene playing in her head of catching her and the Jokers coupling in her vanity mirror. "A _hectic_ week."

Rachel nodded. "Yeah, I heard about the surprise at the Morales trial."

Vini flinched. _Actually_, she had forgotten about that. "Yeah," she lied. "It was a pretty hard blow. . .I can't believe it was just one state of over-looked evidence."

"You _have_ been distracted," Rachel hummed. "Bruce has been talking about taking you down to the Bahamas, maybe you need to take up that offer. Take some time off."

_As if_, her mind hisses. _What if _he_ comes back and I'm not there, hmm? _But Rachel doesn't know Vanessa is shacking up with the psycho shattering through the city, shaking the foundations.

So, instead she smiles and shrugs. "I might just take him up on it this time," she sighs and leans back, rolling her neck. "I think I'm gonna turn in," the clock read 11:19 p.m. "See you tomorrow, Rachel."

The cheeky woman smiled. "See ya, Vini."

Vini grabs her bag and coat, waving goodbye to the police-woman behind the desk and the security guard out front before she ducks her head and starts down the left side of the street. It's oddly windy and the breeze makes her shiver. But she doesn't put on her coat, knowing she would be far too warm if she did that. The weather in Gotham was practically alive, she suspected. Most of the year it was cold and then all of the sudden it would be warm and sunny; even the weather was bi-polar.

When she looks up, gets ready to press the crossing signal, she feels cold steel press into the small of her back and gasps. His warm breath washes over her throat and she pressed the button, shaking now out of fear instead of cold.

"Hello, _kitten_."


	4. Chapter 4

_Hiiiiiiiii everyone!_

_Yes, I know its been awhile since I updated and I __**do **__apologize for that but I've been backed up with being a new adult and other stories that are actually planning to be a lot bigger than this one._

_If you like __**Supernatural**__, that's what I've been up to. I have __**threw **__stories on here for __**Supernatural**__:_

_1\. __**Jolene **__(Crowley/OC drabbles)_

_2\. __**Joey **__(no relation to the story above; Dean/OC and it plays with Dean having a sexuality crisis, lots of fun)_

_3\. __**Screaming Out **__(Dean/OC, dealing with mainly domestic abuse towards a woman and child, not alot of monster activity._

_I also write __**Say Something **__and __**Angel of Small Death**__, which is posted on __**CananaBananalism **__because she just has more time than I do. And she also works on some chapters._

_**Anyway**_

_I __**am **__coming back to this story but for now, I am editing chapters and that may take a minute._

_This will also be posted on __**AO3 - Archive Of Our Own**__, just in case some don't know what that is __**\- **__under the same pin (__**FloodFeSTeR**__)._

_There are also several moral-questioning, smut-filled stories over there (mainly for __**Supernatural**__). _

_And this will follow in their footsteps for smut-adding. Be careful when reading the stories on __**AO3 **__in mg account because there are many, many triggers including rape, vaginal mutilation, domination - and those are the mild subjects._


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